


Resonance Unblocked

by Straya



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Scattered Bones, Sparrowfeathers, Specifics to be added as fic progresses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-06-22 06:04:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 17,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15575391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Straya/pseuds/Straya
Summary: What if, by some strange chance, Rose managed to unblock her own resonance a few years prior to meeting Sorey? What if, in doing so, she found out that she had a guardian seraph who had been following her adopted family around for years? And what if, in getting to know this grump of a wind seraph, mutual feelings developed between them?A tentative relationship, started by chance and off to a rocky start. There are more than feelings to confess and a lot bumps in the road to get past. He has a lot to prove and she has a lot to forgive. The proof is always in the journey, never just in an end result.





	1. Like a Fever Dream

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, here we go. My first multiple chapter fic for the ToZ fandom and the first I've written in several years for any fandom, period. I have no idea exactly how many chapters it will take to make this journey from start to finish, but I will say that it's very much rated EXPLICIT for good reason. While this first chapter just has some nudity in it, expect future installments to be a good deal more risque with my usual amount of description poured into various intimate acts. I'll be updating the fic tags as necessary with each new chapter, as well as posting warnings here in notes as best I can so that no one gets hit up with something they didn't expect at all.
> 
> As always, my thanks to my shipping partner in crime Sol for her help in plotting out various scenarios. Thanks also to my fellow DezeRose fans, especially those who have read and supported my work in the past. You all are the reason I keep posting, after all!

Rose had fallen ill. A sickness of some kind of was spreading through areas of Rolance, far worse than the more mild colds that would often strike in the fall and winter. It was the sort that settled deep in the chest, resulting in a wet cough and a fever, aches throughout the body and a painfully sore throat. The illness was killing the elderly and young children, babies and toddlers comprising most of the latter. While it hadn't crept that far into Hyland just yet, many assumed it would. It was just a matter of time.

Several members of the Sparrowfeathers had also contracted the sickness aside from Rose. Their conditions were not much better, and all of them lay in the backs of the group's covered wagons as the convoy made its way to Pendrago for medicine.

Eguille steered the lead wagon, reins in hand as Rosh sat alongside him. In the back, in a cleared area not occupied with supplies lay Rose, supported on a lightweight mattress stuffed with fur and feathers, a heavy blanket covering her. Near the pillow beneath her head sat a wooden bucket, a shallow amount of water sloshing about within that Rosh used to wet down a cloth periodically for Rose's forehead. Neither he nor Eguille understood the reason, but the water managed to stay remarkably cold no matter how long it took them to replace it.

The reason, however, spent most of his time at Rose's side when Rosh was not with her.

Dezel held one hand over the mouth of the bucket, gently passing a cold breeze over the surface to cool the water within as best he could. He'd recently returned from checking on the other wagons, as each had at least one sick Sparrowfeather inside of it. As with the bucket being kept with Rose, Dezel did what he could to keep the water being used for the others cool, as well.

Removing his gloves and tucking them into his jacket pockets, Dezel settled further at Rose's side, sitting cross-legged to where he could easily reach the bucket. In a daring move spurred on by worry and excusable given how out of it Rose had become due to her fever, the seraph took the folded cloth from her forehead and dipped it in the bucket to refresh it. Once the cloth had been cooled once more, he worked the excess water out and carefully refolded it, placing it over Rose's forehead. Hopefully, once they reached Pendrago, more medicine could be purchased and cool baths at their usual inn would help break the fevers of all the sick within the Sparrowfeather ranks.

The wagon bench up front creaked suddenly and Dezel shifted his attention in that direction a moment, brow furrowed while he listened and read the air currents. Was Rosh getting up again to check on Rose? ...no, he'd just shifted his position. The conversation between Rosh and Eguille resumed and Dezel huffed out a sigh before he refocused his attention on his vessel...

...only to realize Rose's eyes were half open and that she was looking in his direction. Dezel froze, knowing that once in a blue moon in the past, she'd managed to catch a glimpse of him. It was part of the reason she was so afraid of ghosts, unfortunately. At the moment, however, it was difficult to tell whether she was looking directly at him or _through_ him. 

“Heeey, who're you? I don't remember hiring anyone with green hair.”

 _Shit._ While her speech was a little slower than usual and even somewhat slurred, fatigue affecting her on every level, the meaning behind them was plain as day: Rose could see him. Perhaps it had something to do with her fevered state?

“Well?” she went on when he didn't answer immediately. “Gonna tell me or not?”

Dezel's mouth drew into a thin line as he considered his options. He could leave and hope that Rose wouldn't call for Rosh, raising a fuss that would only cause trouble for all involved. Or he could answer her and hope that she wouldn't recall any of this later or, at worst, just think that it was all some weird fever dream.

“You didn't hire me,” he finally said, voice only loud enough to barely be heard over the turning of the wagon wheels. “I'm your guardian seraph.”

Rose's brow furrowed as she attempted to consider that before managing a rather lopsided smile. “Oh yeah? Lucky me, then. I got a really good looking one!”

Unable to suppress a small, choked sound of surprise, Dezel grit his teeth and tugged his hat down lower. “Go back to sleep, Rose.”

“Maybe in a minute. I wanna look at you better. I've never seen a seraph before.”

Oh hell, she was trying to sit up. Dezel grunted in aggravation and set a hand on her shoulder, pushing her back down against the makeshift mattress. “ _No._ Stay down. You're ill.”

Rose made a low whining sound, then decided to start examining Dezel from where she lay by taking his hand in hers. “Hmm... You know, I thought you guys would be different then us, but your hand feels a lot like a regular person's hand.”

His fingers twitched while the rest of him locked up. “Let go of me. You need your rest!”

“Mn, so grouchy. Are all seraphim like that?” Rather than release his hand, Rose opted to pull him closer and set his palm against her cheek. “Your hand's nice and cool, though.”

Dezel swallowed, suddenly nervous. This was getting to be too much. He needed an out. “My hand only feels cooler because you have a fever. Now let me go and get some rest.” A pause. “We can talk more later.”

“Yeah? You promise?”

“Sure. Whatever. Just close your eyes and sleep. I'm going to go check on the other sick Sparrowfeathers.”

“'Kay...” Finally releasing Dezel's hand, Rose sighed and lay back fully again. “Gonna hold you to that.”

Dezel waited until Rose closed her eyes, then stood up and walked to the back of the wagon. Though he didn't need to, he glanced back at her once before vanishing into the wind so he could easily reach the other wagons in the convoy. 

Hold him to that promise, huh? Likely not. The chances of her seeing him again anytime soon were worse than slim to none.

* * *

By the time night fell, the wagons had reached Pendrago and passed inspection to enter through the main gates on the south side. Once the wagons and horses were secured, Eguille ordered those Sparrowfeathers who were ill to be taken inside the nearby inn for care and rest while Rosh left to hopefully procure some medicine.

The evening was a trying one, made frustrating by the high price of medicine and the small amounts of it available. There was barely enough to go around and half the sick Sparrowfeathers' hope for relief ended up placed on cold baths. Rose was no exception to this, sitting on the bed in her inn room, wrapped up in a blanket while Eguille oversaw two inn employees as they filled the tub in the room with cool well water. Once the tub was about half full, Eguille ordered the inn employees out with a tip and then left, himself, leaving Rose instructions to spend at least a few minutes soaking in the cool water.

Over in one corner of the room, Dezel sat in a wooden chair, legs crossed and arms folded over his chest. While he remained wary about sticking near Rose ever since she managed to see him for just a minute or two earlier in the day, it seemed that her eyes had been closed spiritually once again; since awakening from her nap in the wagon, there had been no indicator that she could see him at all. In fact, it didn't even seem like she remembered the incident, given she hadn't even bothered to look around much for the green haired visitor in black who claimed to be her guardian seraph.

As Rose stood up and shrugged the blanket onto the bed before removing her clothes, Dezel started to get up to take his leave as he usually did when his vessel was about to bathe. After all, he was protective, not a pervert. And he could keep a watchful “eye” on the room itself through the air currents from the other side of the door. The way Rose moved gave him pause, however, the seraph easing back down into the chair again as she shed her undergarments with less than satisfactory balance. She was shaky, requiring one hand on the edge of the tub to even stand alongside it, let alone manage to get into it.

“Dammit, this sucks,” she breathed as she set her other hand on the tub ledge as well. “Can't even manage to take a bath by myself!”

Huffing out a weak sigh, she knelt down to better steady herself. And that was when she happened to glance across the room, eyes suddenly widening as they focused on the chair Dezel occupied.

Or rather, on Dezel, himself.

Rose let out a surprised squeak as she nearly fell backwards and tried to scramble around the side of the wooden tub and out of sight. “What the hell!? What are you doing in here, you sicko! Get out of my room!”

 _Dammit, not again!_ Dezel was on his feet in an instant, though he was far more concerned that Rose had just fallen over as opposed to the fact that he'd just scared the hell out of her. Though if she could see him, he might as well do something about her current predicament. Walking toward her, trying to ignore the sudden heat in his cheeks, he prepared to grab her and pull her upright.

“You stay away from me, pervert!” Rose fumbled for anything nearby she could use as a weapon and managed to grab up the set of straps she usually wore around her chest and over her shoulders, the small knives accompanying it still in their side sheaths. Whipping one out, her other arm hugging her chest to cover her breasts, Rose pointed the blade tip at Dezel as he stopped in front of her. “Don't come any closer, dammit, or I'll shove this knife right through your throat!”

Dezel frowned, but didn't reach for her. “Tch, don't remember me from before, huh? Typical.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean? I've never-” Rose stopped suddenly, eyes narrowed a fraction over flushed cheeks as she scrutinized the man before her. Suddenly, realization dawned and she shrank back a little more, eyes widening. “Wait, didn't you say—aren't you—but I didn't see you before...”

“Seraph,” Dezel supplied with only minor irritation lacing his tone. “Most humans can't see me and you often don't, but apparently having a godsdamn fever is making it oddly easy for you. Now are you going to let me help you into the tub or not?”

“Don't touch me!” The response was without hesitation, Rose still keeping the knife pointed at him. “Seraph or not, why should I trust you around me when I'm buck naked like this? Why the hell are you even in my room?”

Dezel sighed. “I told you before. I'm your guardian seraph. It's my job to watch your back, especially when you're ill and alone. Now stop being difficult and let me help you.”

“Why? So you can cop a free feel or get a better look at me once my guard is down?”

His frown deepened. “I'm blind.”

Rose blinked in sudden confusion. “...what?”

“I said I'm blind.”

“You lying asshole, if you're blind, how did you make it over here without running into the bed?!”

Reaching up with one hand, Dezel removed his hat before using the other to brush his shaggy bangs back. Behind the curtain of two-toned hair, his eyes were closed, though they only remained that way a moment longer before he opened them to reveal their clouded depths.

Rose stared up at him with a mix of shock and fascination before lowering the weapon in her hand a few inches. “You...you actually are blind. Then how—”

“I'm a wind seraph. Moving air currents help me identify my surroundings by how space is occupied.”

“So...you can't see me then. Not really. You can only tell where I am, sort of.”

“Yeah.” A half lie on his part, since the wind also spoke to him of colors, textures, temperature and shapes down to some impressively fine details. But for the moment, Rose didn't need to know that. “And if I cop a feel while helping you into the tub, you can feel free to stab me in the face.”

Rose considered all that a long moment, sitting on the floor in silence before finally if hesitantly removing her other arm from around her chest to reach out for the seraph in front of her. Taking her hand in his, Dezel helped her regain her feet before carefully aiding her as she swung one leg over the side of the tub and then the other. Rose shivered as she sank into the cool water, huddling back against the opposite side of the tub with the knife still gripped in one hand. Task managed, Dezel then turned to walk back to the chair and sat down in it, folding his arms across his chest.

Silence fell over the room for about half a minute while Rose watched him carefully before a frown finally settled over her features.

“You do realize how awkward this is, right? You, sitting there, watching me like this.”

“I can't actually see you. We covered that,” came the annoyed response, a similar frown creasing Dezel's face.

“But it still seems like you're looking at me.”

“What do you want me to do? Turn the chair around?”

“Maybe.”

Dezel muttered a curse under his breath, then stood up and swiveled the chair about so it faced the wall before parking himself in it once more. “There. Happy?”

“I guess.” A pause while Rose considered the situation further. “Well, no, not really.”

“Too bad. Just stay in the tub and soak until you don't feel so damn feverish.”

Another stretch of silence, longer this time. And likely only possible due to the way Rose's illness cost her too much energy to argue further. Still, she had always been the curious sort about some things in life. People, mostly. Which meant Dezel wasn't going to get much peace and quiet no matter how sick his vessel felt.

“Why are you here, anyway? Does everyone have a guardian seraph?”

Ah, right. There they were, those questions Dezel hoped he wouldn't have to answer. “It's not important and no.”

“How can you say it's not important? You've gotta be here for a reason!”

“To keep you out of trouble and to look after the other Sparrowfeathers. That's it.”

Rose huffed, sitting the knife aside on the tub ledge before hunkering down further, water sloshing against the tub walls. “You say that like I need the help when I don't! Just who do you think you are, anyway? Do you even have a name?”

“Yes.”

“Well, then what it is?”

“You don't need to know it.”

Rose's eyes narrowed. “If you don't tell me your name, I'll just have to come up with one for you, then! Just so I can call you something.”

Dezel snorted, but did not bother to glance back at her. Little point in doing that, really. “A waste of time. Just leave it alone, Rose.”

But Rose was not about to be deterred so easily, not when she'd already set her mind on coming up with something. Such stubborn behavior was common with her, something Dezel realized he should have recalled sooner. “How about 'Bob'? Easy to say and remember!”

The leather of Dezel's jacket creaked quietly as his fingers dug a bit deeper into it, his teeth gritting in frustration. “I'm not going by 'Bob'!”

“Okay, how about 'Rex'?”

“That sounds like a dog's name!”

“Well, you sort of look like a dog! A big, green haired sheepdog with shaggy bangs covering half your face,” Rose retorted, face scrunched up in a pout before she decided to try again. “Something fancier then, like Denaos? Or Cassius?”

“No!”

“Fine, I guess we'll have to go all the way with something super fancy, like Frederick von Fitzfluff or Schtoltheim Reinbach III!”

“NO!” Gaining his feet, Dezel finally turned to face her, teeth bared in an indignant scowl. “What is any of that and—dammit, how can I even be third of anything when seraphim don't have families to descend from in the first place?!”

For a second, Rose looked like she might either argue or spit out yet another ridiculous suggestion. But then Dezel's last few words sank in and she frowned thoughtfully, moving up closer to the side of the tub that was closest in facing him. “Why don't you guys have families? ...wait, is that why you're hanging around a bunch of humans? Is this like some weird supernatural adoption thing?”

Lords, she was never going to run out of questions, was she? Dezel pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation and sat down again, this time backwards in the chair so he could rest an arm on the back of it. “Because we don't reproduce like you humans do. We're born out of the earth pulse. And no, it's not some weird adoption thing with the Sparrowfeathers.”

“Okay, soooo...what is it, then?”

“It's just how it is.”

It was Rose's turn to scowl, both hands coming to rest on the tub edge as she scrutinized her guardian seraph. “Jeez, what are you so tight lipped for? I think I have a right to know why an invisible person has been hanging around me and my family for...for... How long have you been doing this, anyway?”

“A while.”

“And how long is 'a while'?”

“Years.”

Rose groaned and sank back so far that half her face disappeared beneath the water's surface. Blowing out a mess of bubbles in an aggravated sigh, she sat up again after a long moment and leaned back against the tub wall. “You really are a bastard, you know that? Maybe I don't want you around if you're gonna be this way.”

Dezel shrugged. “Too bad for you that I'm not going anywhere, then.”

The shrill, obnoxious sound of Rose whining followed, causing Dezel to cringe a bit in annoyance. Via his experience, she wasn't prone to throwing tantrums, but being sick for a few days had probably worn her down to where wibbling and whining were not out of the question.

“I don't like you,” she mumbled, glaring daggers at him from just over the tub edge. “Sitting around, giving me a tough time while I feel like hell. You're a shitty guardian, you know that?”

Dezel said nothing back, merely exhaling in irritation and resting his chin on his forearms, hopeful that perhaps if he stayed mostly quiet all the chatter would stop. Surely Rose was getting tired by this point.

“Man, is there even any soap around here?” Looking both perplexed and a little on the exasperated side, Rose turned her attention to examining the area around the tub and glancing toward the nearby washbasin. “My hair feels gross. Ungh.”

“Because you've been running a fever and sweating.”

“Yeah, no kidding. Thanks for that, Captain Obvious,” she shot back before returning her focus back to soap hunting. “I can't believe this... Didn't they stock the room before letting us in here?”

Dezel continued to sit idly by as Rose double checked the floor by the tub. It was likely Eguille would return soon to check on Rose and when he did, he could be the one to help her out of the tub. Or maybe he'd send in one of the female Sparrowfeathers to handle that. Either way, Dezel had no plans to get up again anytime soon. He was tired of dealing with all this bullshit and just wanted to vanish from sight again.

Well, until Rose started sniffling. And then crying. 

Head lifting, Dezel arched his brows behind his shaggy bangs and allowed the air to stir in the area around the tub. “Hey. What's with the tears?”

“I feel awful, okay? I'm tired, I'm sore, I still feel disgusting and I've got an asshole as an audience to it all!” Grabbing a towel from a stool that sat next to the tub, Rose pressed it to her face, muffling her voice when she spoke again. “Why don't you just go the hell away, huh?”

Dezel's shoulders slumped as guilt began to creep in. Rose wasn't the sort to cry often or over just anything, but she had definitely been through the ringer over the last few days. If Dezel's count was correct, it was also likely she would be starting in a day or two. That never did much for her mood, either, even if she didn't typically get as emotional as some women did around that same time.

Finally leaving his spot on the chair, Dezel sighed as he made his way back over to the bathtub. Rose glanced up at him as he began to hunt about, the expression on her face betraying her want to tell him to get out again, but she managed to hold off. Likely she hoped he could locate what she could not and if so, she'd accept the bar of soap with grudging thanks.

“Idiot employees put the soap under the towels,” Dezel muttered as he lifted the stack of clean towels up off the stool to reveal the missing bar of soap beneath.

“Figures,” Rose mumbled before holding out a hand. “Thanks. And give it here.”

“No.” Dezel turned away, setting the soap up by the washbasin and out of her reach. He then removed his hat and set that aside as well before removing his gloves and then his jacket.

Rose stared at him in disbelief, watching him a moment before frustration flooded back in again. “What do you mean 'no'?! Give it to me! I told you I feel like shit and I wanna wash my hair!”

“You're also worn out,” Dezel said in an even tone as he rolled up his sleeves and took a seat on the stool. “So turn your back to me and let's get this over with.”

“What?” Rose blinked up at him in confusion as he picked up the soap again. “What are you doing? I can take care of this, myself! Don't treat me like a child!”

“I'm not treating you like a child. I'm treating you like a cranky, ill adult who needs to conserve energy.”

“Pot to kettle on calling anyone else cranky, you damn grumptree.”

One of Dezel's eyebrows arched, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Turn around, Rose.”

No movement on her part. Only a nasty glare. Then, finally, after several seconds: “No. Not until you at least tell me your name.”

“Oh, for Maotelus' sake,” Dezel growled, lips twitching back to reveal his sharp teeth. “Fine! It's Dezel. Now _turn_. _Around_.”

“See, that wasn't so hard, was it?” Rose replied with an irritatingly cheeky smirk before doing as told. “Dezel. Dezel the grumptree seraph.”

Rose had all of five seconds to giggle quietly over her little victory before she suddenly found herself thoroughly soaked from the top of her head down, Dezel having emptied an entire bucket of cold water over her head.

“ _Dammit, you jerk!_ At least warn me before you do something like that!” she yelped before splashing water at the seraph behind her.

Managing to slide aside and avoid most of the watery assault Rose sloppily threw his way, Dezel let out a low, triumphant “hmph” and allowed himself the smallest, briefest of smirks before dipping the soap into the water and building up some lather. Ignoring the prolonged dirty look his charge was giving him, he then placed a hand on her head and gently urged her to turn away from him again. Lathered up soap followed in short order, Dezel working it into Rose's hair from the top down and then taking the time to carefully massage it in. As his fingertips rubbed at her scalp, Rose slowly began to relax, the tension draining out of her shoulders and neck, her posture losing its rigid stature.

“You're...annoyingly good at this,” she admitted quietly after a minute.

“I'm just being careful and taking it easy,” came the equally quiet reply, his hands drawing her hair back and away from her face. “Here. Tip your head back. I'm going to rinse the soap out.”

Rose did as told, eyes closing as Dezel dipped the bucket into the tub water. Slowly, carefully, he repeated the process of filling the bucket and pouring its contents back over Rose's hair until the soap had been rinsed out completely. As he set the bucket aside, Rose sighed in contentment, weariness creeping over her again and causing her eyelids to droop.

“How do you feel?” Dezel asked. “Still feverish?”

“Maybe a little, but not as bad as before.”

“Mn.” Placing one hand on her forehead, Dezel held it there a few seconds to gauge her body temperature. “A little warm, still, but not bad.”

As he removed his hand, however, Rose caught it in one of her own and held it fast. For the briefest of moments, panic welled up in Dezel's core, the seraph not keen on being kept in place or touched more than necessary. Especially not by Rose of all people. Not with all he felt toward her.

“Your hands are just like anyone else's,” she said after silently examining his palm and fingers, her own index finger tracing the lines on the underside of his hand. “If I didn't know you're a seraph, I'd probably think you're human.”

“Not all seraphim look human,” he managed in reply, though his tone was tight, his fingers twitching a little. “We can look like animals, too. Dogs and cats, for example.”

She glanced up at him, curiosity painted plainly on her face. “So do you guys just come outta that earth pulse thingy as whatever you are or what?”

“More or less. Long as I can remember, I've looked like this.”

“So you came into the world as an adult?”

“No. As a very small child. I've just grown up since then.”

“Huh.” Finally releasing his hand, Rose took a moment to consider that before eyeing him suddenly. “Heeeey, wait a second. You're blind! How do you know you've always looked like you do! Or, more or less, anyway.”

“Tch, I wasn't born blind,” Dezel shot back as he took the opportunity to pull away from her and get up off the stool. Picking up a towel, he draped it over her head so she could dry her hair off. “And while we don't usually cast reflections, we can briefly if we throw everything we have into concentrating on it. I know what I look like.”

Rose huffed from under the towel, then grudgingly took to getting her hair wrapped up in it. “So how long have you been blind, then?”

“Years.”

“Seriously? Do you ever give out answers that aren't vague?”

“When I feel like it.” Holding out one hand, he offered to help her out of the bathtub. “Now, enough talk. You need to get out, get dried off and go to bed.”

Rose gave Dezel's hand a long look before getting wobbly to her feet and accepting his help. Despite knowing about his inability to actually see, she still turned a light shade of red as she stepped out onto the floor mat by the tub, fully exposed before she was handed a towel to wrap herself up in. Teeth chattering a little from sudden shift of cool water to exposure to air, she bundled up quickly, toes wriggling as she hugged herself a moment before moving to sit down on the stool.

“So what are you gonna do, huh? Sit in that chair like some kinda weirdo and watching me all night while I sleep?” she asked warily.

“No, don't be ridiculous. I need to check on the other Sparrowfeathers, sick or otherwise, plus our wagons and horses.”

“Oh.” Rose glanced at her feet, appearing a bit embarrassed for making an assumption about Dezel's night activities. The moment was short lived, however, as she straightened up again fairly quickly with a frown. “Well...good. Since even though you did help me out a little just now, you're still a jerk. And I don't know how I feel about you hanging around me when I'm not conscious.”

Dezel grunted in irritation, but said nothing, guilt suddenly causing his insides to churn. How pissed would Rose be if she knew he'd been using her as a vessel for the last couple of years? Or worse, if she knew he'd also been commandeering her body here and there to gather information about the incident that had resulted in his blindness? Possession was a serious offense, even in the eyes of other seraphim.

“Well, whatever,” she finally said before getting up to finish drying herself off. “I'll go to bed so you'll stop griping at me and we can talk more when I wake up.”

Another grunt. Dezel began to walk to the door.

“And this time I mean it,” Rose called after him. “I won't forget about you this time, mister!”

“Sure, Rose. Sure.” Setting a hand on the door handle, Dezel turned it and slipped out into the hallway before she could say anything further. Once the latch had clicked shut in his wake, he began to head for the next room down begin his nightly rounds. “Huh, the Five Lords willing, I'll be out of her sight again by sunrise. Maotelus knows I don't need to deal with this crap on a daily basis.”


	2. To Catch a Seraph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now that her fever has been broken and Rose is on the road to recovery, it's time to get back to business as usual. Or as much as she can while still getting over the lingering effects of illness, anyway. This proves somewhat difficult, however, as Rose can't stop thinking about the night her fever broke. How much of it was some strange, sickness induced dream? Did she hallucinate the man in black with the green hair? Though whether she did or not, perhaps it's time she gave some thought to the old religious practices Brad taught her when she was a child...and maybe find out just how real seraphim are in the process!

The next few days were odd for Rose, to say the least. When she woke up the morning following her bath, she still felt under the weather and sore, but overall a little less awful. When asked by Eguille if she remembered much about their arrival in Pendrago, Rose had to admit she couldn't recall all that much aside from being escorted to the inn room and sitting in cool water for a bit. Some parts of the evening were a hazy mess of memories and as she swore she'd relived part of it in a dream that night, it was unclear as to how much of it had actually been real in terms of details. When she asked Eguille if he'd seen a man about dressed in black with green hair, he'd shook his head and offered up the explanation that maybe that had been part of her dreams overnight.

And maybe Eguille's assessment was correct. For someone to appear out of thin air like that and disappear again was crazy...right? _Right?_

Except that Rose recalled something about that man saying he wasn't really a man, but a seraph. And that humans had trouble seeing seraphim for some reason. Which didn't sound _too_ strange as a concept, given that the church had been preaching for years that seraphim were spiritual protectors of humankind, never seen, but ever present regardless. Rose recalled her adoptive father Brad teaching her a bit about the seraphim in her youth and impressing the importance of offering them prayers to encourage their blessings, but over time and especially after Brad's passing, Rose had let her religious beliefs slip away. Though perhaps part of that also had to do with the fact that she'd always been afraid of ghosts and spirits in her childhood, and seraphim were supposed to be like spirits of some kind. It was just better for her own mental health to think they didn't exist.

Now, as to whether that man had really been a seraph and if he really had been hanging around? That was tougher to accept. The easy way out was to assume he'd been a hallucination of some sort, brought on by her fever. It was the path Rose automatically wanted to take, to shove that strange “memory” from her mind and get back to business as usual again once she fully recovered.

...and yet the thought of him lingered. 

What had he said his name was, again? He'd given it to her, hadn't he? Or rather, what had she hallucinated his name to be?

She couldn't recall.

Another night came and went without a single glimpse of Rose's so called guardian seraph. Yet she found herself quickly but discreetly checking the corners of rooms when she entered them and noticing if empty chairs were pushed far enough from their accompanying tables to accommodate an invisible body. If she thought she caught movement out of the corner of one eye and turned to see no one present, she hesitated before continuing on with whatever she had been doing before. A couple of times, she swore she felt a presence behind her, even detected the sound of light footfalls, yet when she whirled about no one was there.

This was eventually going to drive her mad, wasn't it? Maybe it was best her crew leave Pendrago behind and continue on their way to Lastonbell. Perhaps no longer staying at that particular inn would be of help.

On their third day in the Blessed Capital, Rose announced to the other Sparrowfeathers that they would be leaving the following morning. Most of those who had been sick were still recovering, but it would just be a matter of not pressing them into dealing with too many tasks while on the road. They had already traveled under worse conditions, anyway, and just about everyone was eager to move on.

That following morning, as Rose supervised the loading of the wagons, she found herself glancing back toward the inn with a frown, eyes automatically traveling up one floor to the window of the room where she'd stayed. She wasn't sure why, exactly. Perhaps she half expected to see someone standing there. Someone with shaggy green hair and wearing a black top hat. But no. There was nothing. Just a single song bird perched on the outside sill, preening in the early morning breeze.

“Ready to go, boss?”

Rose turned to see Eguille walking toward her and nodded. “Yep! I've made sure everything's square with the inn keeper already, so let's all load up and get the hell on out.”

He nodded in turn, though an expression of mild concern still clouded his features. “Right. You're sure you want to ride up front with me on the head wagon, though? You're still not at one hundred percent and won't be for some days yet.”

“Pfft, I'll be fine! Besides, if I get tired, I can always hide in the back for a quick rest.”

“Well, if you're sure, then.”

Turning away from the inn, they walked toward the waiting wagons.

* * *

Dezel stood about ten feet off from where Rose had been a moment before, watching as she walked off with Eguille. Though it made no difference for him, he turned the direction of his gaze the way Rose had been looking earlier, up to that one window.

A frown creased the wind seraph's features.

It did seem like she remembered some details from the day she was able to perceive him. The way she checked that window, the way she'd been sort of paranoid over the last few days, looking to the corners of rooms and eyeing empty chairs.

Ah, but what did it matter? Rose was on her way to being fully recovered and with the fever gone, it seemed as though her eyes had been completely closed to the spiritual world once more. Never again would see be able to see him, hopefully, save for maybe the rare occasional split second where she might barely catch him out of the corner of one eye. He was free from her bothersome questions, he would never need to explain himself or his actions. Just as it should be and should remain. It made everything that much easier.

...and yet...

As Dezel walked toward the wagons and climbed up on the last one in line as the convoy began to head out, he felt a dull ache settling into his chest. He knew the reason well enough, though not like he wanted to consider it for too long. It had been quite a while since he'd had anyone to talk to, really. Sure, occasionally he'd run into another seraph somewhere along the road where humans weren't thick as fleas on an abandoned dog, but other than those basic, terse conversations, he did not have anyone to converse with. Nor anyone he could truly call a _friend._

Did it matter, though? He was a lone seraph among humans, anyway, and his was the solitary path of one who had chosen to protect a handful of people until he could take revenge for a friend long gone. Most other seraphim, even though they didn't know about Dezel's specific agenda, weren't very friendly with him due to how he lived among humans. Many could tell he'd taken an unknowing human as his vessel. They suspected him of meddling in human affairs, something that was taboo among their kind. He was an _outlaw_ , essentially. A rogue not worth knowing in more than passing.

Having to deal with others directly was a bother, he told himself. Human or seraphim. Not worth his time.

Besides, what would Rose say if she found out that she was serving as his vessel? Worse, what would she do if she knew he'd possessed her unconscious body a number of times to gather information on Lafarga's murderer? The guilt over his actions came less frequently the longer he played the foul game, but two years post-incident with Prince Konan, it still seeped through his defense of excuses enough to make him wince.

Yeah, not worth it, he thought. Especially when his lonely path would probably be the end of him, anyway. He'd find the one responsible for taking Lafarga down, killing Brad and dragging the good name of the Windriders through the mud. And he would kill that person without help, even if it cost him his own life.

Better not to involve Rose. Better to not have her find out about him and possibly get attached.

Even if Dezel envied every man she'd ever fancied to any degree.

Then again, why would she get attached to a crummy seraph like Dezel, anyway.

Yeah, easier. It was just...easier this way.

* * *

The first day of travel through the Meadow of Triumph was thankfully uneventful. It gave the sick more time to rest and recover in the wagons, and Rose ordered that camp be made early that night to further aid their recuperation. She herself was feeling somewhat better just by being out on the road again, though she had needed to vanish into the back of the lead wagon a couple of times to sleep briefly in between her turns to handle the reigns. By sunrise the following morning, the Sparrowfeathers were up and ready to go again, continuing on their trek toward Lastonbell. A nasty coughing fit caused Eguille to banish Rose to the back of the lead wagon, however, Rosh once again taking her place up front. She was pushing herself too hard, he claimed, and he wasn't taking “no” for an answer.

So Rose settled where ordered, still a little too under the weather to argue with her second-in-command. Eguille had helped look after her for most of her life, after all, and he usually didn't interfere too much with her decisions these days unless he felt it was absolutely necessary.

It wasn't long after noon that Rose awoke from an impromptu nap in the back of the lead wagon, a blanket wrapped around her where she sat leaned up against one side of the wagon interior. A sudden cough racked her body almost immediately, causing her to reach for a nearby canteen to take a few gulps and soothe her still irritated throat. Damn, the coughing part of all that was probably going to hang around for a week or two, wasn't it?

As Rose closed up the canteen and moved to set it aside, something atop the wagon behind her caught her eye a moment and she paused mid-motion, turning her head for a better look. Had that been a flash of green light she'd seen? Or some trick of the light, anyway, seeing as how there wasn't anything there in its wake. Frowning, Rose set the canteen aside and settled back again to snuggle deeper into the blanket.

“You alright back there, boss?” Eguille asked from up front, concern in his tone, his head turned just enough for a brief glance over one shoulder.

“Yeah, I'm fine. Throat's just kinda dry,” Rose answered as she shut her eyes.

“Is your canteen empty?” Rosh's quieter, slightly deeper voice was a little harder to hear over the turning of the wagon wheels over the road. “You can have mine if so.”

“Nah, there's still a little left in it. Thanks, though.” Rose heard Rosh grunt in acknowledgment and she decided to let the relative silence hang between them for a few minutes. The gears in her head were working again, turning over her thoughts from the past few days. That her mind now frequently returned to what had happened while she was caught up in a nasty fever shouldn't be a shock, though, she supposed. She just wished it was all easier to dismiss, especially since over-analyzing most things just wasn't her style. “Hey, Rosh? Eguille?”

“Yeah?” Eguille replied without glancing back.

“There's a small stone shrine somewhere along our route, isn't there? In Volgran Forest?”

“Yes.” It was Rosh who had responded this time. “Why?”

“Don't tell me you're still thinking about that fever dream you had,” Eguille said before Rose could answer. “Brad was always the devout sort and none of us questioned him on that, but are you really going to use a hallucination as a reason to put his old habits into practice again?”

Rose frowned, feeling her cheeks flush a bit. “Well, I mean, why shouldn't I? Maybe we've been making a mistake in not honoring Brad's old ways. Maybe if we'd been leaving offerings here and there, so many of us wouldn't have gotten sick.”

“Hn, I don't see a point in bothering,” Rosh said with a small sigh. “I never held much of a belief in the seraphim, especially not since Brad was killed. I always thought that if our prayers and offerings mattered at all, he'd still be alive.”

“Well, point, I guess,” Rose admitted after a moment, suddenly feeling vaguely foolish.

“It's true the gods have been quiet lately, no matter what the church says,” Eguille said. “We don't have much reason to believe in them. Still, if you're that bothered by that dream you have, there's no harm in leaving a small offering, I suppose.”

At that, Rose perked up minimally. Ah, Eguille, ever the more likely one between her adoptive father's two good friends to humor her a little. “Okay, so, what would you suggest, then? I remember Brad would sometimes leave a bottle of wine when he was feeling the need to leave something nice. I'm not sure I want to be _that_ nice, though. Not with everything we've just been through.”

Rosh shrugged. “Hmph, this one's on you, Eguille. Leave me out of all this.”

“Heh, thanks,” the other man replied with a hint of clear sarcasm before humming briefly in thought. “Well, if not drink, there's always food. Brad seemed to think we had seraphim with a sweet tooth following us around for some reason. Remember how you used to pout when he asked you not to eat up the cookies he'd set aside, Rose?”

At that, Rose had to laugh a little. Though not too much, seeing as how too much mirth would hurt her throat. “Actually, yeah, now that you mention it I do remember that! And it was always a dozen cookies for some reason.”

Rosh nodded. “Brad always did like things in round or conventional numbers.”

“He also liked madeleines,” Eguille reminded him. “And because he did, so did the seraphim, apparently. Pound cake was another favorite. He'd leave the whole damn loaf.”

Rose tapped her chin in thought. “Pound cake, huh? I think we've got some of that in one of the wagons.”

“Do you seriously mean to leave some of our hard earned food for wandering spirits?” Rosh turned to look back at her, his expression hard. “It's a waste. We're better off hanging onto everything we have right now, especially since we've had some recent bad luck.”

“Well, what else am I supposed to leave if not wine or food? I mean, it has to be something that has value to us, right?” Rose insisted, not to be so easily deterred, as usual.

“I never understood the wine or food options, anyway,” Eguille sighed. “They're spirits, aren't they? Why do they need to eat or drink?”

Rose huffed. “Missing the point here, guys.”

“Alright, alright,” Eguille said, exasperation finally slipping into his tone. “How about a few gald?”

“Seriously?” Rosh cut in again, his face a deadpan mask of displeasure.

“Okay, I'm with Rosh this time,” Rose said in staunch agreement. “At least if nothing else, forest animals can eat any food that gets left on the side of the road. But if there are no seraphim, what would rabbits do with gald?”

“More likely squirrels,” Rosh added. “Or crows. They're the type to collect shiny objects.”

“Rabbits, squirrels, skunks, prickleboars, whatever!” Rose went on. “We're definitely not leaving any gald.”

Eguille's shoulders slumped in defeat and frustration. “Fine, no gald! But the only other offerings I ever remember Brad making involved the occasional item of clothing or feathers.”

“Feathers?” Rose blinked in confusion. “Why feathers? Unless they're part of a piece of jewelry, sewn into clothing or stuffed into pillows, they're not worth much.”

“Mn, I remember why, now that you mention it,” Rosh rumbled as he folded his arms across his chest, apparently not sure why he was still contributing to this conversation. “We _were_ the Windriders. Brad did always say the wind was ever on our side and that nothing that was part of creation was more connected to it than the birds.”

“Huh... That does make sense.” After all, for as long as she could remember, it seemed the wind had always been with her with every leap and tumble, something that now almost seemed a mite ominous given recent personal experiences. Still, that in mind, perhaps offering feathers wasn't so strange. Besides, if they could catch and kill a few local fowl for dinner while on the road, plucking and saving a few feathers would be easy. “Well, I guess if we end up with pheasant for dinner at some point, using feathers would be an option. You could even say it'd be like killing two birds—”

“Don't say it,” Rosh cut in, but Rose was not about to be stopped.

“—with one stone!” she proudly finished.

“ _Gods,_ ” Rosh muttered in defeat.

“I thought you didn't believe in them,” Eguille said with a smirk, gaze shifting to his driving companion. 

“I don't!” Rosh growled back. “Now can we end this foolish conversation? Feathers. We settled on feathers. Let that be that.”

Eguille laughed and Rose allowed herself a giggle, though it promptly died as she glanced back at the caravan behind them. Whatever Rosh and Eguille said to each other after that point, she didn't catch. Not when something else had her sudden and undivided attention.

There, standing atop a wagon two back, was the man in black, one hand on the brim of his top hat. Rose promptly ducked down further, as though merely locking her eyes on him would be enough to make him turn and notice her. For a full ten seconds, he remained in the same spot, attention on something off the side of the road. Then he vanished in a near instant, a flash of green light marking his departure.

Heart throbbing up in her throat, Rose tugged the blanket around her a little tighter. _Gods, indeed._

He was real. _The seraph was **real**._

And it was in that moment Rose remembered his name.

_Dezel._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time around... Hide and seek with a seraph!


	3. Caught Red Handed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Convinced a seraph is following her about, Rose has a plan to catch him. Things do not go quite according to plan, however...

Lastonbell, City of Artisans, a much anticipated rest stop before the final leg of the Sparrowfeathers' journey home. Or to the most secure place they could refer to as such, anyway. Unfortunately, for as behind schedule as they were already, they couldn't afford to stay more than one night within Lastonbell's walls. So after an all too brief overnight break and some time spent replenishing their traveling supplies, Rose and her crew were back on the road again and heading into Volgran Forest.

The stay in Lastonbell provided only one more brief glimpse of the man in black, thus Rose was extra vigilant as they left the city behind a few hours after sunrise. The last sighting occurred during dinner at the inn tavern the night before, in between the meal itself and dessert. Rose had just finished off her beef bourguingnon and was anticipating the arrival of the apple dumpling she'd ordered when she saw him — silent, arms folded across his chest, and head turned toward the inn entrance from where he stood outside the bounds of the tavern dining area. Rose had quickly turned away, fixing her own gaze on a nearby window, throat suddenly tight and a shiver running up her spine. For several seconds, she dared not look back. It was only Eguille questioning her tense state that finally got her to move again and once she did, a furtive glance back toward the man in black revealed nothing but empty space where he'd once stood. Whether he'd actually left or had merely become invisible to her again, Rose couldn't tell. Not knowing was more nerve wracking than she cared to admit.

Navigating Volgran Forest was a little trickier than traveling through a wide open area such as the Meadow of Triumph. While the trees and brush did provide adequate cover from prying eyes as the Sparrowfeathers made their way home, so did it also provide suitable hiding places for attackers of various sorts, both men and beasts alike. Bandits sometimes roamed the woods, seeking easy targets, and aggressive animals such as boar and large, flightless birds could easily become a problem if their territory was encroached upon. Thus while the distance between Lastonbell and the ruins deep within the forest was actually shorter than the trip through the meadow, it was not that much quicker of a journey.

As the sun began to set at the end of their first day's travel into the forest, Rose ordered a halt for the night. In a stroke of luck, the area she picked out was just a short walk from where a small stone shrine stood. Or should have stood, anyway.

“Man, are you kidding me?” Rose huffed out a defeated sigh, shoulders sagging as she and Eguille stood before what remained of the tiny shrine.

“Huh, looks like someone or something didn't want this thing here anymore,” Eguille said as he rubbed at the back of his neck, a frown creasing his features. “How odd.”

At their feet lay pieces of the shrine, the once worn, old stone structure broken into several large chunks, as though someone had swung something large and heavy right into it. Kneeling down, Rose picked up one of the smaller pieces in her hands, turning it over a few times before dropping it again in frustration.

“Don't suppose these things still work in pieces, do they?” she asked as she stood up again. “Kinda guessing that leaving the feathers we brought on top of a pile of rubble wouldn't count as reverent.”

“Probably not. Though Brad always did say it was more the thought that counted,” Eguille replied with a small shrug.

“There's another shrine at the ruins, isn't there?”

“Yeah, one that was probably put up after the temple fell into ruin, but it was in rough shape last I noticed it. Better than this, though. So I suppose that's something.”

“Man, I really wanted to leave something here tonight, too!” Rose nudged a bit of debris with one boot before turning to head back. “Just been our luck lately, though, I guess. Hopefully the one at the ruins is still okay.”

“Mn.” Eguille glanced over the remains and followed after, catching up and then keeping pace with Rose as they walked back to camp. “Any particular reason why, Boss? You have been acting...well, a little strange lately.”

“Well, I'm still kinda under the weather, you know!”

“I know, but this whole thing with wanting to resurrect some of Brad's old practices. It seems sort of...sudden.”

“I guess.” Rose fell silent a long moment, mouth drawing into a thin line. She couldn't very well tell her second-in-command about what she saw while ill, could she? And all the glimpses of her so-called guardian seraph after? Eguille would probably question her sanity and rightfully so. “I don't know. Maybe so many of us getting sick all at once felt like a wake up call. Business in general's been a little tough, too.”

“True, though word was in Lastonbell that Marlind's been hurting for certain supplies, lately, no thanks to bandit activity in Glaivend Basin. Marlind doesn't get everything it needs from Ladylake, after all, so the trip we've scheduled out that way should be to our advantage. Well, provided we don't have too much trouble with bandits, ourselves.”

“See, that's just it, though! Why not make an offering to the seraphim if it might give us an advantage, passing through the basin?”

Eguille's frown deepened. “...you don't really believe that will help, do you?”

Again, Rose was quiet a long moment. That she would or even could believe didn't seem all that in-character for her, especially given how terrified she used to be of ghosts and spirits. Hell, she _was_ still afraid of them, even if she couldn't outright admit it easily. “I don't know. Even for all of Rosh's doubts, even after what happened in Pendrago a couple years ago, it has always felt like we've had an advantage of some sort. Especially when it comes to direct conflict. Sure, the old stories about how it used to only take a hundred of us to beat an army of several thousand are somewhat exaggerated, but...”

“When we were still the Windriders, anyway.”

“Well, yeah. When we were more direct about problem solving. But you've gotta admit we've still been pretty fortunate in our more recent ventures. We don't exactly play things as safely as we did back in the old days.”

Eguille shrugged. “True enough, but to attribute what success we've had to the seraphim... I don't know, Rose. I never thought you'd be one to credit luck over hard work, anyway.”

“I'm not, not really. I just...” Shaking her head, Rose trailed off, struggling for once to find words to explain herself without giving everything away. “I don't know. Maybe it _is_ just about doing something to memorialize Brad. And it can't hurt, right?”

“You're sure it's just that? Not anything else you want to talk about?” There was a brief pause, during which time Eguille's eyebrows suddenly arched up in recollection. “This doesn't have anything to do with all that rambling you were doing while ill, does it? Something about a man in black with green hair?”

“What? No!” Perhaps the defensive exclamation came too quickly. Rose could see the suspicion in Eguille's eyes deepening as she chanced a glance in his direction. “That was just some weird dream I had back in Pendrago.”

“A dream. And not a vision, right?”

“Pfft, of course not! Come on, Eguille. Be serious! I was feverish as hell.”

“Huh, well. Alright. I'll take your word on that, Boss.”

“Anyway, no point in crying over broken shrines, I guess,” Rose went on, eager to put the subject of the man in black behind them, especially as they neared the camp. “I'll just leave the feathers we saved at the ruins shrine, instead.”

“In the meantime, you could always just pray. Brad used to do that, too.”

“Ah, no. Don't think so. I feel like the whole offering thing is strange enough without talking to thin air at random points!” Rose managed to laugh, though a slight tremor ran through her voice despite her best efforts. “One thing at a time, anyway.”

“If you say so.”

Thankfully, nothing more was said for the rest of the night on the subject. Which was fortunate, seeing as how Rose didn't want to make up another explanation for avoiding prayers. As far as she was concerned, she was already risking quite a bit by trying to find ways to leave offerings. She only wanted to draw the man in black out of hiding to see if he'd take what was left. Manage a solid chance to watch him from a distance. Well, provided she could actually _see_ him. But even if he didn't show up physically, she'd still be able to see what she left vanish, right? Anyway, Rose wasn't entirely sure she could handle the idea of praying, only to potentially have a voice answer her out of thin air. Or have her tall, dark target appear in a situation where she wasn't as in control.

No, she'd hold off. Wait until she had a chance to watch and learn a bit more. Besides, some small part of her wanted to turn the tables on that invisible bastard. Be the one observing him for a change!

* * *

The moon was high overhead when Dezel returned to the remains of the broken stone shrine. While he'd followed Rose and Eguille out before, the two had left the area before the wind seraph managed to examine what was left laying about. And while it was something of a risk, leaving the camp unguarded for a short while, Dezel had a nagging feeling that he'd missed something on first “glance” earlier.

Kneeling by the pile of debris, Dezel picked up the same broken piece Rose held hours prior, turning it over in his hands as his vessel had done. Between his sense of touch and what the wind whispered to him as the currents shifted over the stone chunks, Dezel couldn't necessarily discern anything unusual about it all. A complete lack of scorch marks meant it hadn't been blown up with a fiery blast. Nothing to indicate water damage beyond what one would expect from seasonal rains, either. No, what was left simply looked like it had been struck down in the most literal sense possible. As though a large war hammer had smashed it, perhaps.

Beyond how the shrine met its end, however, was the why of it all. Who the hell would waste energy on wrecking an old shrine? All the damn thing ever did was sit there, largely out of use, save for the rare occasion when a particularly religious traveler passed through. Even then, it wasn't like there were any seraphim around to receive offerings. Well, except for Dezel when the division of the Sparrowfeathers he regularly traveled with came by, anyway.

Maybe some rage driven hellion had come by and shattered the shrine. Took one look at it and decided it needed to be no more for whatever weird reason. 

All told, Dezel supposed he shouldn't worry about it. No one would miss it. Not even him. Those few members of the Windriders that still remained, now Sparrowfeathers, hadn't offered him anything in roughly two years. He was past expecting it. Past wanting it, even. The Five Lords knew he didn't deserve anything, anyway. Not with how he had failed to save Brad and Lafarga, and with how he was using Rose these days.

Though that did make Rose's sudden interest in leaving an offering all that much stranger.

Dezel suspected it had something to do with the night she managed to see him. Perhaps she remembered enough of the experience to think she'd had a prophetic dream or a vision or something. Just enough to make her think it might be worthwhile to leave an offering or two while the memories were still somewhat fresh in her mind. Or as fresh as they could be, tainted with the haze her fever had draped over said memories the night they were formed.

Either way, Dezel had no plans to accept any offerings. Why the hell should he?

Letting the broken piece of shrine fall from his hand, Dezel joined the wind and rode the night currents back to camp. Upon arrival, he re-manifested and took a few minutes to investigate each of the tents and wagons to be sure the occupants were sleeping peacefully. Rose was granted the most attention as per usual, Dezel pausing just outside her tent to take in how he breathed in her sleep before he made his way over to one of the campfires that still burned. A few of the Sparrowfeathers sat around it, Rosh included, talking quietly now and then while they kept watch over their sleeping comrades. Dezel listened in here and there, though for the most part his thoughts stuck with the destroyed shrine and Rose's apparent intentions.

Likely he would need to let Volgran Forest shrine go in terms of consideration. Did it really matter what had happened to it in the long run? But regarding Rose and this sudden need to make offerings...

She was up to something and Dezel couldn't say he cared for it, whatever it was. While it was entirely possible she was being truthful with Eguille regarding her intentions, Dezel was starting to wonder if perhaps she was, in actuality, trying to test the theory that she wasn't alone. That she had definitely seen something that fever breaking night in Pendrago.

But what exactly did Rose expect to get out of the experience of leaving an offering and having it vanish? Proof of the seraphim's existence? Proof of _his_ existence? She could no longer see him at all. The most she would ever see would be her offering floating away. Or the wind sweeping it up and away, depending on how Dezel felt like handling the situation.

If he decided to handle it at _all_ , anyway. After all, he was certainly not obligated to accept any offerings of any kind. He could just turn away from the entire situation and let Rose go back to wondering if she'd hallucinated most of that night in the Pendrago inn. Eventually, she'd let the whole idea go, everything would blow over and all would go back to the way it had once been before that damnable illness threatened to ruin the status quo.

Yeah, that seemed the way to go, even if it might temporarily disappoint Rose in some weird way, if just because then she'd have to admit she'd hit a dead end. She was always the sort to bounce back, however. All told, she'd be fine in the end.

Rose and her crew had more important matters to consider, anyway, like the upcoming trip to Marlind, which Rosh and the other night guards were currently discussing in quiet tones. Spending too much time and energy on offerings and other such nonsense would be a distraction, something none of them could afford on a journey through bandit infested areas.

Speaking of which, Dezel had other matters to focus on, himself. Such as continually monitoring the surrounding area for trouble, whether on foot or through the air currents. Sighing quietly, he closed his eyes and focused, letting the low fireside chatter fade to background noise as he listened to the whisperings of the breeze instead.

* * *

Tintagel Ruins was a welcome sight as the Sparrowfeather wagons finally reached it, patches of sky visible through the forest canopy and around the tops of the ancient structure fading from the bright blue of daylight into the deeper shades of late evening. The arriving crew was greeted by several Sparrowfeathers who had been eagerly awaiting them, everyone taking a few minutes to greet each other before working on unloading the wagons as necessary and hiding them within a particularly secluded area. Rose and Eguille met up with a newer recruit who had been hired to help handle inventory, the younger man eager to prove himself as he made a show of chattering on about dividing and either storing or packing supplies for the trip to Marlind.

“Word is that Marlind is in short supply on a number of spices right now, such as cardamom, cinnamon and vanilla. We currently have several in stock and could no doubt earn a nice profit if we include them in our offerings! Apparently the town and surrounding areas have also suffered the loss of a number of sheep recently, no thanks to some sort of large predator living in the nearby mountains, so including both the raw wool and wool blankets we have on hand could be a smart move, especially as the weather is growing colder and-”

“Alright, easy Talfryn,” Eguille finally said, interrupting the red head, who glanced at him with wide eyes and arched brows, likely worried he'd overstepped his bounds somewhat. “One thing at a time. We'll get all this sorted out inside and once we've had something to eat. It's been a long road here.”

“Ah, right. Sorry, sir,” Talfryn said as he hastily rolled up the parchment papers he had been reading from. “We've just been so eager to get this business venture rolling and we've been concerned about you all making it back alright, especially with that illness getting around.”

“Hey, no worries, Tal! We all made it back safe and sound, right? And we'll have all day tomorrow to get things reorganized before we head for Marlind,” Rose assured her new recruit, throwing an arm around his shoulders as she directed their little group toward their headquarters entrance. “Besides, I think far better with food in my stomach, anyway. So let's get everyone fed and then we can go over some of the paperwork afterward.”

Talfryn startled at the unexpected contact, but nodded regardless as he managed a nervous smile. “Okay. Sounds good, Boss.”

“How's your sister doing, anyway?” Rose went on. “She adjusting alright, too?”

“Yeah, Felice is finishing a last inventory double check right now. She should be in soon to join everyone for dinner.”

“Sounds good! Don't want anyone missing out on a good meal tonight, since we've all got plenty of work to do in the morning.”

Rose went last as the three descended into the main section of ruins they used as their living and common room space, briefly glancing off in the direction of the small stone shrine that was supposedly located around the other side of the ruins. While she did not have time then to make sure the traveler's shrine was still intact, she figured she could slip out later that night to find it and leave her offering. Likely it would be best if she went alone, given Eguille's suspicions when he'd gone with her to find the shrine in forest.

For now, though, it was time to see the rest of her gathered Sparrowfeathers family and have a hot meal. Using the ladder built inside the entrance, Rose descended into the common area below and put all thoughts of offerings and shrines out of mind for the moment. Food first, seraph catching later.

-===-

Rose estimated it to be roughly ten o'clock or so when she finally managed to exit the ruins again, a leather pouch containing her chosen offering tied to her belt. Later than she'd hoped, but better late than never. She waved briefly to the guard by the entrance to acknowledge him and let him know all was well, then made her way around to the other side of the ruins.

The night was cool, bordering on chilly. Rose tucked her hands into her jacket pockets as she moved through the brush, years of practice allowing her to make decent time with hardly a sound. Overhead, the moon was full and high enough to cast its pale light through the forest canopy, providing just enough illumination to see. Insects hummed and chirped all around her, the occasional frog call joining them. It was a decent night overall, one that Rose hoped would also be productive.

She found the shrine where Eguille mentioned it would be, up against one of the side walls. The ancient stonework behind it was weathered and cracked, covered in dirt and sprouting plant life here and there between the seams. The shrine itself was made of newer stone, though still boasting plenty of indicators that time had not necessarily been kind to it, either. A thin layer of bright green moss grew on one side of it. A small section of it had also broken off on one side, though the damage was not extensive enough to make it completely unusable; the main, flat area fashioned to bear offerings was still intact. Overall, it was shaped like a large stone table that came up to about mid-thigh on Rose as she stood before it, a roughly carved canopy over the top that made it taller than she, the covering meant to protect whatever objects were offered until the seraphim could claim them.

Standing before the shrine, Rose took the pouch from her belt and tugged open the drawstring to withdraw her offering – a handful of small but pretty pheasant feathers. For a moment, she simply held them in one hand, glancing from the feathers to the stone table and back at the feathers again. How was it that Brad had instructed her to make offerings, again? Was it a few quick words of prayer before or after? Did it even matter? Did she need to somehow specify who the offering was for?

Then again, perhaps this whole idea was foolish, and it was best left undone and forgotten.

The breeze picked up briefly. Rose shivered and glanced over one shoulder, suddenly wondering if she was being watched. 

No, she went through the trouble of picking out these specific feathers and coming out to the shrine. She might as well finish the task. It wasn't like leaving a bunch of bird feathers out there could do more harm than good, anyway.

Rose took a deep breath and set the feathers down, careful to keep them beneath the stone canopy so it was less likely they'd be swept away by the wind. That done, she clasped her hands before her at chest level and closed her eyes.

Gods, she felt so silly.

“Uh, mighty seraphim,” she began with a slight waver in her voice, “Please accept this humble offering. I know it's been a long time since any of us Sparrowfeathers have given you anything and I'd like to change that. I, um...humbly request your understanding and your blessings.”

What she hoped counted as a prayer over and done with, Rose opened her eyes. The feathers were still there, but then what did she expect? For them to vanish over a fifteen second time period? Better they hadn't, anyway. It would give her the chance to hang around a bit and observe the shrine. From a distance, of course.

Turning away, Rose ambled off into the woods again, quietly and carefully seeking out a place where she could manage to watch the shrine without being noticed by anyone, human or otherwise. Though whether the tall fellow in black knew what she was up to or not was another matter. Rose could only hope that maybe he hadn't found his way to the shrine just yet, that perhaps he'd been following some of the other Sparrowfeathers about. And if such was the case, that he would find the shrine before he found her, perhaps even becoming visible by that point. It was a long shot, but Rose was willing to gamble once in a while. Especially if it meant he wouldn't have heard that pathetic attempt of a prayer.

Settling in the sturdy branches of a large tree, Rose began her stake out.

* * *

Dezel stood near the tree Rose had chosen to climb, blind gaze turned up in his vessel's direction while she kept her own on the shrine. While trailing after Rose, the wind seraph had been more careful than usual to remain out of her line of sight. Just in case. Now that she was settled and watching, Dezel figured there was no reason to alter that plan, as while chances were incredibly low that she would see him, he wasn't about to take that gamble. Not now of all times.

Besides, even if he remained invisible, Dezel didn't particularly want to deal with Rose seeing the feathers vanish in some way. It would be enough to convince her that she had a seraph hanging around and cause them both nothing but further trouble. 

So he would wait for her to cease this ridiculous behavior, get down out of the damn tree and go back inside again. Dezel would follow in her wake as he always did and they could both get on with business as usual, starting with a decent night's rest.

What Dezel did not expect, however, was for Rose to be stubborn enough to wait more than an hour for the offering to be taken somehow. 

Just as he was starting to lose his patience with the situation, however, wondering if it would be worth it to make a ruckus elsewhere to see if that would draw his nosy vessel off, Rose finally sighed in defeat and climbed down out of the tree. Muttering to herself about how it would be irresponsible to wait around much longer and lose out on needed sleep, she began the walk back toward the ruins entrance. Dezel allowed her a head start, then trailed along after, monitoring the air currents as always.

The trip to Rose's quarters was one that passed without much interruption, only a couple other Sparrowfeathers who were awake and working late pausing in their tasks to ask her a question or two about trip preparations. Then she was through the door, closing it in her wake. Still erring on the side of caution, Dezel decided to wait outside, crouched on the side opposite the door handle while he waited for Rose to get changed for bed. He could monitor the room via the slight space beneath the door, able to feel where and how Rose moved, and able to tell when it was that she finally climbed into bed and extinguished the candle on the small bedside table. 

Dezel held off a few minutes more, waiting for Rose's breathing to slow. As it grew deeper, indicating that she was drifting off to sleep, he joined the currents and slipped beneath the door and into the darkness of the small room. It would be nice to have a few hours of solid rest, especially while Rose was able to make use of a real bed again. Dezel always did sleep a little better when she was warm and in a safe location. Perhaps it was her own sense of comfort and security setting his own mind at ease. 

As he stood over Rose where she lay in bed, her eyes closed and auburn hair spread out over over part of her pillow, Dezel felt another brief pang of guilt and regret. Some part of him really did wish that it did not need to be this way, that their connection existed in a mutual sense rather than out of mere necessity on his part. But another part recognized the trouble and danger involved in that ever becoming the case, as well as the impossibility of it all.

“I'm sorry,” he sighed, then vanished into thin air as he slid into Rose's body and joined her core being. 

Yet the usual, mostly welcoming warmth of Rose's inner being did not last this time. Normally it would only take Dezel a moment to settle, perhaps half a minute at most if Rose's subconscious recognized that something was amiss and pushed back at him a bit. But this time, hardly a few seconds after he took up residence in her body, there was a reaction so violent he had no time to prepare for it.

There was a scream and a curse, followed by a painful shock that jolted Dezel's entire spiritual essence. He grunted in pain and sensed his hold failing, then was thrown from his vessel and onto the floor. Grabbing for his hat where it had fallen, Dezel made a swift attempt to regain his feet...

...only to have Rose's right heel smash into the side of his jaw. Dezel spun and crashed to the floor again, aching and confused, blood oozing from one corner of his mouth where he'd cut the inside of his cheek on his own sharp teeth. Before he could make a second attempt to rise, enough weight to pin him to the floor slammed into his back and shoulders, holding him fast. Deft fingers seized him by the hair and wrenched his head back, exposing the underside of his neck and allowing the edge of a blade to come within a hair's breadth of slicing into his skin.

“Breathe wrong and I'll cut you wide open,” Rose hissed in his ear, tone low and commanding.

Dezel shut his eyes and went still. He knew that tone all too well. It belonged to the leader of the Scattered Bones, not the boss of the Sparrowfeathers.

She had caught him sneaking into her body and managed to eject him.

The jig was up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time: She has questions. He may have answers. But will he give them or no...?


	4. Explanations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose interrogates Dezel regarding his suspicious activity. Things go about as well as expected, which is not well at all...

“Rose, don't-”

“Shut up! Not a word out of you unless I ask you a question!”

Dezel fell silent, but Rose did not relinquish her hold on him. Fingers still wrapped about the silky strands of his two-toned hair, she struggled to maintain her control of the situation. Of herself. Sensing the sudden intrusion had been jarring enough, but ejecting it and discovering it was the seraph who'd been following her about had shaken her to her core. Now, still sitting on his back, pinning him to the stone floor of her quarters with a knife at his throat, Rose worked to keep her hands as well as her voice steady.

“Boss? Are you okay in there?”

_Talfryn._

Rose's gaze shifted to the nearby door. To the shadow that moved against the dim light in the crack beneath the bottom edge and the floor.

“Remember that he can't hear or see me. If you let him enter-”

An abrupt yank to her captive's hair silenced him again, save for a soft, pained grunt.

“Yeah, I'm fine!” Rose called out, careful to change her tone accordingly so as not to raise suspicion. “Just had a bad dream and fell out of bed!”

There was some uncertain shuffling on the other side of the door. “Do you want me to bring you some warm tea or something?”

“I'm fine, Tal! Go get some sleep, 'kay? We've gotta be up early!” Rose called back as cheerfully as she was able.

“Oh, uh. Alright. Sleep better, okay, Boss?”

“You too, Tal.”

Footfalls sounded as the young man moved away from the door. Rose allowed a handful of seconds to pass, listening hard for any sounds beyond her own breathing and that of the seraph beneath her. When she could detect nothing beyond that, she turned the majority of her focus upon Dezel.

“Alright, you,” she ground out in a harsh whisper, tone shifting back to that of an assassin who had killed her fair share of targets over the last two years. “You're going to explain to me exactly what it was you were doing before I kicked you to the floor, do you understand? If you don't, I'll add you to my personal kill count, seraph or not.”

“Tch, you'll probably want to do that anyway, once I tell you.”

“Don't. _Tempt me._ Now, _explain._ I'm not going to ask again.”

Dezel swallowed hard, likely out of discomfort due to the way his head was craned up and back, the sound just barely audible in the quiet darkness of the room. “You're my vessel. I was taking up residence inside you for the night.”

“...what?” Rose leaned in closer, eyes narrowed dangerously. “The hell do you mean by that?”

“It means what you think it does. _I live inside you._ ”

Rose's eyes widened a fraction as the blood in her veins suddenly ran cold, a chill overtaking her entire body. A dozen questions immediately sprang to mind, most of them she wasn't sure she wanted answers to at all. She licked her lips in uncertainty, tempted to simply run her blade across Dezel's throat and end his life on the spot. That would be the easy way out. One that required no further questions and no explanations in return that might make her want to empty the contents of her stomach all over the floor.

“You already want me dead, don't you?”

“What did I say about speaking unless spoken to?” Rose hissed, the edge of her knife nicking his throat, enough to draw a drop of red in the dark. “But yeah. Yeah, you're damn right I do! Who the hell do you think you are, using me like that? And for what godsdamn reason?”

Dezel swallowed again in discomfort, his Adam's apple dipping down and barely brushing the knife edge before he managed a response. “Seraphim are very susceptible to Malevolence, the negative spiritual energy generated by humans. If we don't have a pure vessel of some sort to shield us, we'll become tainted. Turn into hellions or worse.”

Rose nearly spit on the back of his head. “Do you really expect me to believe that? How is an assassin pure enough to be a vessel?”

“Purity is not in good or in evil, but in lack of contradiction; Malevolence is caused by dissonance in the human heart. If you are living a life according to who you truly are, then you are technically pure.”

“And you chose me...why? There are plenty of other humans here who are probably as pure as I am. Why not one of them? Not...that I'd want some creepy asshole making any of my family members into a vessel, either.”

“Because you _are_ the most pure-hearted here. And unlike the others, you have in-borne spiritual resonance. It's the reason you can see and hear me.”

“But I can't see or hear you all the time. What about that?”

“That's your own fault. You've been blocking your resonance. Probably out of fear.”

“Fear of what? _You?_ ”

“Of anything supernatural. You've been scared of ghosts since you were a child.”

Rose found she had no immediate response to that, partially because Dezel was right, but also partially because that particular response only served to make her stomach lurch in how many more questions it raised. “How do you know that? _How long have you been hanging around me and why?_ And don't you dare give me some vague answer, like you did the last time I asked you a question like that.”

Dezel grunted, hesitating to answer. Short on patience, Rose tightened her grip on his hair and gave him another yank in warning, working a grunt out of him before he finally gave up a reply. “Years, but only because I was already with the Windriders before Brad ever took you in as his adopted daughter. How else do you think the group got its name?”

That finally did it. Rose released Dezel out of sheer shock, letting go of his hair so that his head fell forward and his chin came within a mere half inch of cracking against the ground. Still, she did not remove the threat of death, keeping the blade to just off to one side despite the way her hand had started to tremble. “Alright, you listen to me. I'm going to let you up, but if you dare do more than roll over and sit up, I'm going to jam this dagger blade right through your neck, got it?”

Dezel nodded once. Slowly, carefully, Rose pushed herself up off his back while still keeping the blade in her hand turned in his direction. As he rolled over and moved into a sitting position, hands pressed against the stone floor, Rose slipped around behind him, her blade never more than a few inches from his neck.

“You knew Brad,” Rose began once she was crouched behind him, struggling once again to keep her voice even. “How? Why?”

To her surprise, Dezel chuckled softly, the tone mirthless, his head lowering a fraction. “If you're going to ask questions like that and wring the damn truth out of me bit by bit, I might as well tell you everything.”

Rose's eyes narrowed. Even as a captive, he was infuriating. “Then start talking. I don't care if it takes you half the night to tell me everything.”

“I'll keep it to the point. If you have questions about the details, you can ask when I'm done explaining. Fair?”

“Fair enough. Now talk.”

“I 'joined' the Windriders before you did, when I was fairly young, myself. There was already a wind seraph with the group by the name of Lafarga. He found me wandering on my own and took me in, much in the way Brad took you in some months later. Like you, Brad was resonant, though he did not block his and was friends with Lafarga, who used Brad as his vessel. When Lafarga brought me in, Brad agreed to let me stay and forged a pact with me to become my vessel as well. Since I was young and much weaker, housing two seraphim wasn't a problem for him.”

Rose listened with an increasingly heavy heart. Brad, as she had known him, had always been a devout believer in the seraphim and their aid. Likely this was why, since he had a direct connection with a pair of them, allowing him to use his body in such a way. Still, it stung to know that he had never been more upfront with her or anyone else about the pacts he'd forged with Dezel and Lafarga.

“Brad always said the seraphim were on our side, but why didn't he tell the rest of us – tell _me_ – about the two of you?” she asked. “Why did he always keep it so damn vague?”

“Just how well do you think that would've gone over?” Dezel turned his head slightly in Rose's direction, though it was clearly more in gesture than anything, given he was blind. “Two invisible beings, wandering among you all at a constant, using your leader as a vessel. Half the Windriders wouldn't have been able to sleep at night, and you... You couldn't handle the sight of Lafarga and I coming and going when you did manage to notice us.”

Much to Rose's chagrin, she had to admit he had a point. Even if she had difficulty remembering instances of seeing either seraph. Still... “So where is Lafarga now? Is he still hanging around somewhere? Am I housing both of you?”

At that, Dezel turned away again. When he spoke, his voice was quieter. “No. He died in Pendrago, the day Prince Konan turned on us.”

_Shit._ For a moment, Rose felt a degree of sympathy. Having lost Brad that same day and given it seemed Lafarga had played a similar role to Dezel in his life, it was difficult for Rose not to feel _something_. “We both know what happened to Brad that day. What happened to Lafarga? How did he die?”

“He fell saving you.”

“Me? How? From what?”

“From Konan. The reason he turned on us and killed his half brother was that he'd been overtaken by Malevolence. It amplified his greed and made him violent. When you struck him down, the Malevolence in him spilled out, looking for somewhere else to go. It would have taken you, had Lafarga not...” Dezel trailed off. A few seconds of silence followed while he drew a deep breath and exhaled. He was trying to center himself. “Had Lafarga not gotten in its way.”

For a long moment, Rose was silent. That...was a lot to process. She recalled in vivid detail the moment Dezel described, only without the memory of a wind seraph coming between her and a cloud of Malevolence. If he was telling the truth, it meant that she owed her life to a seraph. To the seraph who raised Dezel as Brad had raised her.

“What happened after that? You said Malevolence turns seraphim into hellions or worse.”

“Everything after that is a blur and then...just darkness. That was also the day I lost my sight.”

_Godsdammit._ As if this whole situation couldn't get any more depressing. Slowly, Rose lowered her blade. “So that was it, then. With Lafarga gone and Brad dead and your sight gone, you decided to take me as your vessel?”

“I didn't have much choice. If I didn't take a new vessel, I'd be the next to fall, and I couldn't let anything happen to you or the other Windriders after Lafarga gave his life for you.”

“You could've left, you know. The Windriders had fallen apart by then, anyway. Gone...wherever seraphim go to be away from humans and Malevolence.”

“No. I couldn't.” His voice had hardened again, his tone slowly becoming more grating as he continued to speak, rising in volume and warmed with anger. “Konan's turning wasn't some accident. Malevolence tainted him because someone soaked him in it beyond what his own heart was producing. The one who did it was there that day. I saw her and she mocked me when Lafarga fell. She brought ruin upon us and I wasn't going to leave until I found that bitch and took her life!”

“Another seraph?”

“A hellion, I think. Another seraph wouldn't have been able to do what she did.”

“And have you found her yet?”

Dezel hesitated a moment, then shook his head once. “No. But finding her is the other reason I needed you as my vessel.”

Rose felt a shiver run the length of her spine. She wasn't sure she liked where this was going. “Really. Care to explain that in more detail?”

“Tch, not really. The answer I give won't exactly deter you from ending me.”

Leaning in closer, Rose brought the blade edge back to Dezel's throat once more. Lowering her own voice to something more menacing, she was careful to direct her next words into his ear. “If you don't answer me, I'll kill you, regardless. Then you'll never have your revenge at all.”

For several seconds, Dezel said nothing. Growing impatient, Rose pressed the cold flat of her dagger against his throat, causing him to flinch, the motion just barely visible in the dark.

“Why do you need me for your revenge, Dezel? I'm not going to ask you again.”

“You can't kill me,” he growled back. “I'm the only one who knows what that witch of a hellion looks like! Remember that Brad's blood is on her hands, too! Do you want revenge against the one who took him away from you or not?”

“You're not in any position to bargain, Dezel!” Rose hissed back. “What are you going to do even if I don't kill you, if I never let you use my body as shelter again? You owe me a _hell of a lot_ after using me as free godsdamn housing for the last two years!”

He grunted, turning his head away. Rose lifted one hand, about to seize his hair again when he finally spoke.

“I needed your eyes and your ears, and your ability to talk to other humans. I needed you to help me gather information, and to help me reform the broken Windriders into the Sparrowfeathers and Scattered Bones. I used your body while you were asleep or otherwise unconscious to do all of it. I influenced your decisions in those first few months to reforge our group. Kill me if you want, but I didn't have many other options and I'd damn well do it all over again in a heartbeat if it meant taking vengeance and holding what was left of the Windriders together!”

It was as though Rose's stomach had plummeted to the floor between her feet. Eyes wide in the dark, her mouth suddenly dry, she felt her weapon hand trembling. Everything was suddenly in sharper focus as realization sank in; all those times she'd awakened feeling unusually sore or with a scrape or a bruise that she couldn't remember getting made sense now. It was enough to drive a rush of bile to the back of her throat.

She moved swiftly, pulling an arm around Dezel's neck and locking him into a choke hold, one she tightened enough to make him gasp for air. His hands found her arm, palms pressing against it as though to push her back, but moved no further once the tip of her blade found his lower back, just to the right of his spine. The sharp tip punctured his clothing, just enough to draw blood. Dezel froze, muscles locked, knowing that if he so much as twitched a finger the rest of the blade would follow, burying itself in as far as Rose could force it at that angle.

“I should kill you right now,” Rose hissed, flexing her arm and closing the hold just a fraction more, enough to make Dezel gasp again. “Shove this blade right into you for invading my damn life and using me like...like some kind of tool! You selfish, fucking bastard!”

Dezel made no attempt at a reply, not that Rose thought he could have even if he'd wanted to put forth the effort. Yet, the way he bared his sharp teeth in the dark, mouth drawn into a snarl, she had a feeling that he would have dared her to go through with the threat had he the breath to speak. Even for all his strong words regarding revenge, he must still have some shred of pride left. Something that kept him from begging for his life.

Rose turned the dagger in her hand, twisting it enough to drive it a hair deeper. Dezel flinched, teeth gritting.

“Now you listen to me, you opportunistic asshole,” Rose went on, “I'm going to spare your life for now, if just because you were important to Brad and because your friend saved my life. But you are _not_ to enter my body again. And you are _not_ to use me for your own agenda _ever_ again. In fact, if I so much as catch you near me, close enough to touch me, I'll cut your damn balls off and shove them down your throat, understand? And if you dare use me one more time, I'll kill you. I'll _fucking end you._ Got me?”

She felt him try to nod, his jaw pressing down against her arm. Releasing him, Rose took her dagger from his back and took half a step back. 

“Stand up. _Now._ ”

Dezel coughed and rubbed at his throat, then slowly got to his feet. As soon as he turned, still somewhat stooped, Rose lashed out with a hard left punch, her fist catching him squarely in one eye. Grunting in shock and pain, Dezel nearly lost his footing. He staggered, one hand coming up to cover his face even as Rose shoved him toward the door.

“Get out.” When he didn't move quickly enough, she kicked one of his legs, nearly causing him to fall. “I said out! And don't you dare come back in here again!”

“My hat–“

“Out, _now!_ ” Rose snarled, her entire body trembling with barely contained rage as she pointed her dagger at him again.

Dezel turned his blind gaze toward his hat where it still lay on the floor by the bed. He made a small, pained sound at the back of his throat, then vanished in a burst of green light. The air moved, and Rose swore she could feel his presence depart the room, slipping out beneath the door and into the space beyond.

Rose remained where she was a few moments later, rooted to the spot with her dagger still upheld, as though half expecting the wind seraph to re-enter the room again. Then she was collapsing to her knees with a sob, her weapon clattering to the floor at her side. The tears came against her will, sliding down her cheeks and dripping onto her tunic and pants while she hugged herself and trembled in rage, disgust, and fear. It was a struggle to hold her dinner down, her insides tying themselves in knots while she grappled with the information she had wrung out of her so-called guardian.

Perhaps she should've killed him. Removed him from the equation of her life in an instant and gone on, knowing she never needed to worry about him making use of her again. The temptation had definitely been there, yet somehow it had seemed the wrong action to take. The easy way out of a far too complicated matter.

She needed more time to think it through. To put all the pieces together. Even so, Rose was sure that even if she didn't think Dezel deserved to die, she never wanted him too close to her again. The very thought of him wearing her skin while she slept, of using her voice and her hands to give orders to her family and sign contracts made her skin crawl.

Slowly, she picked herself up and wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands. Retrieving her dagger, she made her way back to her bed, found her scabbards and re-sheathed the blade. The hat Dezel left behind remained untouched, sitting alone on the floor as Rose climbed back into bed.

She needed sleep but doubted she would get any at all. Her mind was a whirl of unwanted thoughts, all vying for her attention at once.

It was would be a long, slow crawl to sunrise.

* * *

_The world had gone dark._

_The sound of metal on metal echoed around him as blades clashed. There was yelling, profanity, and calls for retreat. He could detect the coppery scent of blood on the air, hear the sounds of footfalls as what remained of the Windriders escaped from the courtyard, fighting their way past the Rolance Royal Guard._

_They were dying. His family was **dying.** He could hear their last gasps, sense their lungs emptying of air as they collapsed to the ground. He staggered after those who could still run, struggling to find his way by scent, sound and the wind._

_Brad was dead. Lafarga was gone. His heart ached, burning in his chest. His guts twisting painfully in shock and panic._

_...Rose? **Where was Rose?!**_

_He could not call for her. It would do him no good. He could not see her. His clouded eyes would never catch sight of that auburn hair in a crowd again._

_But the wind... The wind found her. It carried her voice to him as she helped the others escape and he followed her, the sound of her calls the only beacon he could find in a field of darkness._

_And it shut out the manic, mocking laughter behind him._

_That witch. **That demon.** This was her fault. Everything was her fault! **SHE HAD TAKEN EVERYTHING FROM THEM...!**_

_He somehow made it to the stables and into one of the wagons hastily prepared for departure. They were going to have to leave almost everything behind if they wanted to escape with their lives._

_They were going to have to leave behind the bodies of their fellow Windriders._

_He clambered into one of the wagons a moment before it began to move, all but collapsing on the floor as the horses were urged to run for the city gates. Eguille shouted as he snapped the reins, all his focus on speed to evade capture and death._

_Somehow, they made it out of Pendrago. They lost a few more to archers by the gates, but not without some of their own arrows felling their attackers in turn. The wagons rumbled out of the city, bumping and clanking as they sped along the road toward Pearloats Pasture._

_He sat in the back of the wagon alongside Rose. He could hear her crying over the sound of the rattling wagon wheels, unable to hold her sorrow in any longer. The medallion adorned top hat that he had managed to snatch from the ground as the world went dark rested in his lap, the top of it damp as his own tears of anger and grief began to fall._

_Her sobs only served to make his agony worse. He could do nothing to console her._

_And there was no one to console him. Lafarga and Brad were gone._

_He set one hand over Rose's where it pressed against the wooden wagon floor, her fingers curled tightly against her palm. She did not react, continuing to cry brokenly. Yet he curled his own fingers over her hand anyway and held on as his own bitter tears continued to slip free._

_“It's over,” he heard her cry. “It's all over...”_

_His grip on the hat brim tightened._

_“No.” His voice was tight. His throat hurt. “It's not. I promise. I promise I'll do whatever it takes to make things right!”_

* * *

Dezel sat down heavily in the designated cooking area of the hideout, seating himself on the floor by a wooden crate of supplies. There was no one about, not that it mattered. He and his pain were invisible to everyone there, just as they had been the night after everything fell to pieces.

Try as he might, he couldn't forget that lonely night in the Gaferis Ruins, curled up in a corner by himself, mourning in agony and knowing that there was no one to hear him. Dezel had never been one to actively seek comfort, not since he'd grown out of being a child, but what he wouldn't have given that night to at least have a hand on his shoulder or back while he drowned in grief. The other Windriders were locked in a state of mourning back then as well, but they at least had one another. They could offer one another a simple word or touch of consolation when needed. They could turn to one another to talk of other things to get their minds off their sorrow, to make plans on how they might try to move forward despite their great losses.

Dezel had experienced pain and inner turmoil then in ways he didn't know were possible. And the only thing that had kept him from soaking up all the Malevolence pouring off his remaining family was the hasty bond he had forged with Rose out of sheer desperation and without permission.

Even then, that had been a risk. For even Rose's heart ached in a way that made her far more vulnerable than usual. 

The pain Dezel felt now was not as deep, nor as devastating. His self-loathing, however, was another matter entirely. Over time, he had slowly gotten accustomed to the notion that his actions in using Rose were necessary, even if not excusable. Yet, having been caught in the act and after explaining everything, he realized with renewed disgust in himself that he truly was a sorry, terrible example of a seraph and an even worse guardian.

Lafarga would've been reviled.

Why he simply did not break his bond with Rose and leave at that point, Dezel wasn't sure. His ability to take revenge for the Windrider losses was now in question, after all. Why remain?

Dezel grudgingly told himself it was because Lafarga's hat was still in Rose's quarters and he could not leave without getting it back. It was the only original piece still left of his elder brother, friend, and mentor. 

Yet some part of him knew that even for as much as Rose had hurt and threatened him, even for as much as he deserved it, he couldn't bring himself to leave her side. Drawing his knees up to his chest, Dezel wrapped his arms around his legs and sat in misery. All of this was not something an apology would fix, especially when he had already admitted that if he had to do everything over again, he wouldn't change anything about his decisions and actions.

For the first time in a long while, Dezel had no plan of action. No idea what to do.

Perhaps Rose should have taken his life when she had the chance...


End file.
